


In From The Storm

by MayQueen517



Series: The Old Guard Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Book of Nile, Booker is self-deprecating because well...Booker, Booker is very cuddly, F/M, Nile and Booker have the start of a talk, Pre-Relationship, Unbeta'd, cross-posted from tumblr, or at least...getting there, tumblr cuddle meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayQueen517/pseuds/MayQueen517
Summary: ...in the darkIt's silent; the kind of silent that means the power's gone out and she curses even as she slips her feet into her slippers.Nile grabs the cardigan from the pile of clothes and pulls it on, seeking comfort. She knows, just by the knit and the patches on the elbows that the sweater belongs to Booker.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nile Freeman
Series: The Old Guard Tumblr Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944751
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	In From The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting from Tumblr!
> 
> Title from the Jimi Hendrix song of the same name!

It's the thunder that Nile hears first. It cracks around the safe house, making her jump as her heart pounds painfully. She sits up, looking out of the window beside one of the beds. Wind whips the trees outside, the flashes of lightning making her wish for warmth rather than anything. 

She sits for a moment, yawning as she listens for the sounds of the safe house. It's silent; the kind of silent that means the power's gone out and she curses even as she slips her feet into her slippers. Nile grabs the cardigan from the pile of clothes and pulls it on, seeking comfort. She knows, just by the knit and the patches on the elbows that the sweater belongs to Booker. 

Nile smiles to herself, padding downstairs. She hears rustling from the front room, letting her know that she's not the only one up in the storm. She shuffles into the room, making sure to scuff her feet for noise, not wanting to surprise whoever is up. 

"Couldn't sleep either?" Booker asks as she steps closer. The wind picks up, howling outside as she shakes her head. The lightning flashes and she grimaces as Booker huffs. He's fiddling with an oil lamp that he's got on the table in front of the couch.

"Too quiet," Nile says, sitting on the couch beside him. He's warm, a line of heat along her right side as she folds her arms over her middle, comforting herself. It feels childish to say she doesn't like storms, though none of them would ever fault her for it. 

"I hate storms," Booker says, swearing as the wick fails to catch in the oil lamp. She hears rather than sees the rasp of the mechanism sticking and she leans closer, squinting.

"I think it's a lost cause, Book," Nile says, as Booker curses to himself, flopping back against the couch. Nile leans back as well, arm pressed to arm. She's so aware of him, aware of the way she's surrounded herself with something of his no matter how many times they all share clothes. 

"Well, that I am well-versed in," Booker says, deprecatingly as Nile scoffs, nudging him with her elbow. 

"We agreed, twenty years ago, none of that."

"I don't recall signing anything."

"Verbal agreements count, as agreed by Joe and Nicky," Nile says as Booker laughs softly. He scrubs a hand over his face, the stubble rasping as Nile leans, resting her head on his shoulder. Booker hesitates and she can feel the stutter of his breath as he slowly eases his arm around her. 

Nile slides closer, pillowing her cheek on his broad chest, listening to soothing beats of his heart. It's been forty years since his exile ended. Forty years since he came back and she knows he still finds it hard to find his place with them. She's watched him join conversations and excuse himself just as quickly, as if he still feels he isn't allowed. She knows it takes time but with her cheek on his chest, Nile can't help but swallow hard at the gentle sweeping touch of his hand on her shoulder. 

"I do not deserve this."

"Why is it about deserve?" 

"After what I did," Booker says, as if Nile doesn't know. 

"It isn't about deserving. It's not like this," Nile gestures between them, "is a prize."

"Oh, no, that isn't. I didn't mean it like that," Booker says, shifting so he can face her on the couch. He reaches up, brushing his fingers against her cheek. She holds his hand in place, leaning into it as he watches her. The lightning flashes outside, blue-white light illuminating the wondering look on his face. 

"It was shitty. I won't tell you it wasn't," Nile says as Booker's eyes slip shut, "I can tell you that I see the ways you've made amends. The ways you keep trying to be better. It's hard work and it's hard work that you keep doing."

"Is that enough, Nile?"

Booker's voice is rough, the French warm and welcome as she reaches out, cupping his cheek in return. He leans into it, the rasp on his stubble sparking against her palm. 

"It is for me. We can work on everything else," Nile says, just to hear him laugh softly. His face lightens and she wonders if he looked like that in the 1800s, before his first death. Before the weight of his world found a home on his shoulders. 

"I am not good at this," Booker says, meeting her eyes and it's only because her eyes are adjusted to the dark that Nile knows what he means. 

"Hey, I might be bad at it too," Nile says, making him laugh again. He rubs his cheek against her hand, brushing his lips against the bottom half of her palm. She sighs shakily, pressing a kiss to his palm as he gently and slowly, as if she might spook, pulls her in to rest against his chest. 

" _Mon coeur_ , I highly doubt that," he says, slowly draping his arms around her. 

"We'll keep each other honest," Nile says as Booker slides his hands up and down her back. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head over her bonnet, resting his lips there and she fits the hand not behind them against his cheek. Her thumb slips over his stubble there, the sound loud in the quiet room. 

Nile shifts closer, tucking her head into his neck as Booker leans them against the couch, settling in. She hands him the pillow from behind his back as he laughs softly. They arrange themselves, Nile settled close, enjoying the warmth and comfort as the storm calms outside.

**Author's Note:**

> I am ALWAYS taking prompts over on Tumblr at [CactusDragon517](https://cactusdragon517.tumblr.com/) so please feel free to come leave me a prompt or just chat!!
> 
> Translation (If you notice an error, please KINDLY let me know!):  
> Mon coeur - My Heart in French


End file.
